The One

The all moan in unison.

“So low class.” Ruby shakes her head and shrugs. “I mean, yeah I slept with him too, but I had a reason.” She laughs as they nod and smile at each other, glancing over their shoulders toward the table before returning to their gossipfest.

I shove my phone back into my pocket and lay a palm on the bar top just a little harder than necessary, making them jump. “Hey.” I look down at the floor making them follow my gaze. “Be careful, your ugly is showing.” I look up at all three of them and see a flash of confusion then realization I’m throwing shade.

Ruby gives me an incredulous glare, but I grunt and shake my head, then turn around, and I see my father and Gayl, but no Issi.

I feel like I just got punched in the stomach. Within a couple of hours, I’ve become addicted to her in some crazy way. Her absence has my head buzzing, and a possessive monster is born inside of me.

Marching back to the table, I don’t even wait for them to notice me before I start talking. “Where’s Issi?” The question comes out as a bark, and they both look up at me wide eyed.

“She went home, to work. She’s always working.” Gayl squints her eyes and tips her head, leaning into my father’s shoulder. “We’re on our way up to our room.”

“See you tomorrow.” I nod and feel the tightness in my chest multiply.

With that, they are on their feet. We say our pleasant goodnights, and they make their way to the elevator.

“Fuck me,” I grit out. My cock is still not giving me any relief.

I haven’t gone into my room yet.

When I got here, I checked in but went straight to the bar. So, I need to get my shit out of the rental car and get to my room.

Looks like it’s going to be a long night of dealing with work, and I hope like hell it will be enough of a distraction to keep me from turning into a prison hound and sniffing out her trail.

Four

Issi

CHANGING JOBS.

Moving.

My mother.

My mother getting married.

Again.

I’m exhausted.

I’ve been running on an upward trajectory for so long I don’t know what it’s like to coast.

To relax.

To dream.

Is that what I was doing at dinner while I watched him, trying not to let him notice?

Dreaming?

God, get a grip. This is exactly the girl I promised myself I would never be.

I watched my mother hang her hopes on more men than I can count over the years and it did one thing for me.

It taught me with absolute certainty, love is bullshit. She’s told me so many men are ‘the one’ over the years it has no meaning anymore.

And you know what else? They all disappointed her. And some me. Some in big ways. Some in smaller ways. But love?

No such thing. At least not the way Nicholas Sparks and the Hallmark channel show you. It’s a fleeting emotion and not worth this girl’s time. That’s one thing I’ve been good at, and it has kept me safe. I’ve lived through enough broken hearts with my mother.

None for me, thanks anyway. I can do without.

I may die alone, but I’ll have my dignity. And my heart will be in its original box, never touched, never played with, never broken, never crushed.

My career is based on navigating the risk versus reward of startup and venture capital deals. And love? I can tell you with absolute certainty, any far-fetched reward is not worth the risk.

Then why did your stomach do that flippy, butterfly thing when you looked at Van’s picture? Not to mention the little orgasm. And when he walked to the table and touched your hair? What was up with that? You practically passed out.

“Shut up,” I whisper to myself, biting my cheek as I try to pretend my stomach doesn’t have a reaction every time a thought turns to my soon to be step-brother.

The night air nips at my nose as the doorman at the Royal Park tips his hat and ushers me outside, giving me an odd look. The temperature has dropped since I went in, and it was already hovering just above zero. It’s so cold; you get that prickly feeling in your nose that tells you everything that touches the air at this temperature is going to freeze. Just give it a minute.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean you.” I half smile, and his eyes seem to sparkle with understanding.

“Valet?” he asks with a kind smile.

“No, I self-parked. Thank you.”

“Very well.” He closes the door behind me, and I tug my coat tighter, watching my breath billow out in a cloud of steam.

For all the so-called success I’ve had since high school and college, I still never seem to feel I fit anywhere. Especially back here in Bloomfield Hills. Even though at twenty-five I bought a very respectable house here in the most expensive area in the state, I can’t shake that feeling that I’m an outsider.